


Georgina on my Mind

by PastelPrincess96



Series: Shades of Blue [2]
Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: Angst, Domestic Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Family, Family Drama, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Murder, Triggers, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-21
Updated: 2018-06-13
Packaged: 2019-04-26 00:01:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14389866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PastelPrincess96/pseuds/PastelPrincess96
Summary: (Prequel to Shades of Blue)Snippets from Georgina's life throughout the years - From meeting Tommy and the Shelby's; to falling in love.(Title may change)





	1. Seven

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so, this is still very much a work in progress, and I'm not sure how often I'll be able to update it; but here it is, the prequel to Shades of Blue. It's going to be more snippets/one shots in style, rather than an actual structured story, but that was the easiest way for me to start writing, and moving this forward!
> 
> I hope you enjoy; here's a bit of Georgina's family history, and her first time meeting Tommy, and Polly.  
> (I don't think you'll need to have read Shades of Blue, but it might help)
> 
> Happy reading!

I was seven years old when my life changed in two unimaginable ways. One changed my life in a heartbeat, in a breath, with immediate effect. The other happened in a passing second, with no second thought, and took years for me to realise its consequences. 

Just after I turned seven, my father sat me down and told me that my mother was ill; very ill. He said that she needed to go into hospital so the doctors could make her better. But that never happened. I never saw my mother out of hospital again. I never knew what was wrong with her. I never knew what killed her. 

She was gone before I knew it, having deteriorated far quicker than anyone thought. It was like she disappeared before our eyes, turning more into skin and bones than the woman I loved. My last memory of her was her struggling to breathe, grasping onto the last essence of her life. A lasting memory I would not wish on anybody. 

Her death broke us, my father and me. It changed everything. It meant we only had each other; with the only family my father remembered having moved away before I was even born. We only had each to lean on, to rely on. And I needed my father for everything. For love, for comfort, for money, for support, for everything to keep us going. And he needed me. He needed me to give him purpose. He needed me, to keep pushing him, to keep him going. He needed me for more than I could give. 

It was one of the worst times of my life. A statement I knew to be true, even at seven years old. Even at an older age, when I had lost more people close to me, my mother's death was the worst. Her death had the longest effect on me, and was probably the reason why I felt less affected by the deaths that followed hers. Her death made my numb. A numbness I still felt when death came into my life. 

We tried our best to cope. We tried our best to carry on. And we did for a time. We lived under a cloud, for a time, ignoring what had happened. We ignored anything and anyone that dared remind us. Generally, most people did not ask me about her, not wanting to upset me; but the people that did, I tried my best to not see again. My father just avoided everything that reminded him of my mother, which easily began to extend to me. On some days, I knew he found it difficult to even look at me. Some days, I found it difficult to look at me too. I looked more like her than anyone else, a fact made glaringly obvious after she died. 

My father soon started to lose himself, in drink, in drugs, in anything he could get his hands on, in order to cope. He started to spiral, and there was not much I could do. There was not much I wanted to do. I did not like it when he got drunk, but it helped him cope, so I found it hard to argue against the habit. 

His new habit is what led me to The Garrison, for the first time, one fateful afternoon. 

\- 

I had been wandering around town most of the afternoon. I tried to stay out the house as much as I could, which was easier to do during the day. I found it hard to stay in the house. There were still too many memories. It was still too fresh. I knew I could not be around them, even at seven years old. 

Based on the number of men starting to appear on the street, I knew the working day was over. Meaning, I knew my dad was done with work for the day. However, I knew this did not mean he was going home. He was barely ever home these days. I wanted to see him though, I felt like I needed to see him. So, I went off and tried to find my father. 

I wandered around a few more streets, trying to look at each face I passed. No one looked like my father. No one looked familiar to me at all. 

I stopped at the end of the street I was on and sighed. I was ready to give up. If my father did not want to be found, he would not be. It would be dark soon, making it harder to find him, and making my own precarious safety even more at risk. Out of my own fear, I would want to get home soon as well. 

I looked up and down the street one more time, clinging onto my last bit of hope. I spotted a building at the end of the street, much bigger than the houses around, but much smaller than the factories. The bright lights shining out of the windows were enticing me in, and based on the number of people coming in and out, I could see it was a popular place to visit. But, what truly made me close the distance between me and the other end of the street, was the name. 'The Garrison'. I had heard my father mumble about it every so often, and knew it was a place he liked to go now. If I could not find him here, I would not find him anywhere. 

As soon as walked into The Garrison, I was immediately drawn to the bar top. Compared to the rest of the room, it was the cleanest area, making it the shiniest, with the lights reflecting off every section. There was a gold bar lining the edge, drawing my eyes in further, and reflecting the lights in even more directions. I could not understand why everyone was not captivated by it, as it was the most out of place thing in the room, apart from me. 

However, as my eyes went along the length of the bar, I spotted two women sitting and leaning against the bar. They were the only women I could see in the room, making them just as out of place as I was. I immediately went towards them, thinking them the same as me, thinking they looked the most trustworthy. They must have heard me approach, as they turned to look at me as soon as I stopped by them. 

"What are you doing here sweetheart?" One of them asked me, as looks of concern crossed both of their faces. 

"Is my dad here?" I asked nervously, playing with my fingers. 

"Who's your dad sweetheart?" 

"His name is Ray, Ray Harris." 

The two women shared a look when I said my father's name. A look I had already come recognise. A look that told me they knew who my father was; I knew meant they did not think highly of him. 

"I don't think he's here at the moment," the other woman said, finally speaking, whilst looking around as if to double check. 

As her friend spoke, the first woman stood up from her chair, to kneel down next to me. "What's your name sweetheart?" She asked. 

"Georgina." 

"Well Georgina, my name is Anne, and this is Polly," she said, gesturing to the woman next to her. Anne smiled at me gently, "and we were just about to go home and make some tea. Have you eaten?" 

I shook my head no, confused by her question. 

"Well, I have a little girl, just about your age, and I know she would love to meet you," the smile remained on Anne's face as she spoke, making me feel even more at ease around the two women. Her smile stretched wider after she finished, and I wondered if she could see the gleam in my eyes. 

"Would you like to meet her too? And have something to eat with us?" 

I looked between the two women, as I tried to make my decision. 

I knew it was dangerous to leave with these two women, two women I had never met before. But they were so nice, the nicest anyone had been to be me in a while. So, I nodded my head in acceptance, and easily followed them out the door. 

The walk to their house was quicker than I expected, as they only lived a street over from The Garrison, much closer than my house. Before I knew it, I was following the two women through a front door, and into a kitchen. It was a fairly large kitchen, or larger than I was used to. They must have had a large family, as the table in the middle of the kitchen, had enough chairs to fit eight, with chairs around the room to fit more. 

As one of the women, Anne, led me over to one the chairs around the table, the other woman, Polly, went over to the stairs leading from the room. 

"Ada!" Polly shouted up the stairs, making me jump as I sat down, "come down!" 

As Polly waited at the bottom of the stairs for whoever she had called, Anne walked away from me with a gentle smile. She went across the room to the kitchen cabinets, and began riffling through them, probably in order to start making the tea she had talked about. 

I was left to look around the room alone, although I dared not move from the chair I as in, I took in as much of the room as possible. What I managed to see made me instantly jealous of the family that lived here. There were odd little objects, trinkets, around the room, to show that somebody, somebodies actually lived here. Our house was almost bare now, my father having gotten rid of nearly everything in the house to try and forget. There were a couple of pictures dotted around the room, both of the family and of places I did not recognise. We had no pictures, even before. I remember there being a few wedding pictures, but I had not seen them in a long time. I presumed they were gone now as well. 

I sighed as I took in the room, thinking about what my life could have been like. We were never a sentimental family before, but with his obsession to get rid of everything, my father had made sure I had difficulty being sentimental again. I only had memories to do that with now. 

As I turned my attention back to Anne, watching her methodically prepare the tea by chopping up some sort of vegetable in her hand, there was a banging of feet coming down the stairs. I sat up in anticipation, wondering what Anne's little girl looked like, if she was anything like me, if she would like me. I had always wanted a friend, and hoped whoever appeared on the stairs would be that for me. 

Although, my anticipation quickly vanished when I saw, it was not little girl coming down the stairs, but a little boy instead. He did not look as young as me, but he was still young. However, he only looked young in his face, as he was dressed much older than I assumed he was. Clad in a dress shirt and trousers, he was dressed much like my farther used to when he used to go to church. He had a toothpick held between his lips, that I knew would have been replaced by a cigarette if he were older. 

I could not take my eyes off him as he spoke to Polly. 

"She's not here," he said. 

"What?" replied Polly. 

"Ada. She's not here. She went out earlier, and I've not seen her since." 

The young boy's words caught Anne's attention, as she dropped her knife to turn towards him. 

"Gone out?" 

"That's what I said." 

Anne sighed at Tommy's blunt answer. She took a deep breath, before going back to her chopping. After watching Anne, I quickly turned my attention back to Polly and the young boy. They were having a hushed conversation, that abruptly ended when Polly pushed the young boy in my direction. As the young boy walked over to me, Polly walked over to Anne, before beginning another hushed conversation with her. 

I began to ignore the two women across the room, as the young boy stopped next to me. We stared at each other for a moment, me too nervous to speak, and him probably trying to size me up. I do not know what he was looking for, but whatever he found must have been acceptable as he finally spoke to me. 

"What's your name?" The young boy asked gruffly. 

"Georgina. Georgina Harris," I replied shyly, tucking an errant hair behind my ear. The boy nodded at me, before we lapsed into another silence. 

"What's yours?" I stutteringly asked, wanting to be polite. 

"Tommy," the young boy said, before abruptly turning and walking away from me. He left the room, and walked back up the stairs quietly, and we did not see him again for the rest of the evening. 

\- 

Two of the most life changing events happened when I was seven years old. 

When I was seven, my mother passed away. 

When I was seven, I met Thomas Shelby.


	2. AUTHOR'S NOTE

I don't know if anyone will really read this, but I just wanted to let whoever would know that, I'm contemplating deleting this story. I am finding it much harder to write than I thought I would! I am really struggling to think of any ideas at the moment, and I don't know if that's writer's block or just a general lack of enthusiasm for writing at the moment.

I'm not deleting straight away, I'm going to give myself another week or so and see if anything comes to me; but if it doesn't I'm afraid I'm going to let this story go. I don't want it just sitting here gathering dust, and I don't need to put any more pressure or stress on myself to write. So, if this story really is going nowhere, it's best to delete it!

Bear with me, and we'll see what happens. Much love to you all xxx


	3. Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here we go...

It was three years before I saw Tommy, and the rest of the Shelby's again. 

During my first visit, I had mainly met and played with Ada. Tommy barely stayed in the room five minutes after I introduced myself, clearly too restless to stay in one place for period of time. I had only caught glimpses of John and Arthur as they had come in. They had only paused in the room quickly, stopping to greet their mother, and ask where Tommy had gone. They disappeared before anyone could introduce me. 

It was only the four girls who ate together, Ada, Polly, Anne and I, and it was nice. But, before I got too comfortable, I made sure to let them know I had to get home, and let myself out. They all protested me leaving, but as they argued, I slipped away, leaving before they could stop me. I was grateful for what they had done for me, but it was too much. I did not deserve anything they offered and I knew I had to leave before they tried to convince me otherwise. 

The three years that passed after were... difficult. I tried to block out what had happened with the Shelby's, but sometimes remembering their kindness was the only thing that got me through the day. It was the only real kindness I remembered receiving during that time. 

My father was... absent, at best. He barely ever came home. But, I was more than okay with that. Whenever he was home, I was on edge. He usually more drunk than not. It made me feel like he would lash out at any time, and based on past experiences, I knew he would. I generally avoided him when he was home, which was always easier than I expected. He spent most of his time in his bedroom when he was home. Sometimes, he would look at the few photographs we had of my mother. Sometimes, he would just lay there, staring into space. 

I was surprised, as much as I was grateful, that he managed to keep his job. But, I think everyone still felt too sorry for him to let him go. I would not be long before he was though, he was too much of liability for anyone. 

The fear of running out of money was what led me to getting my first job. 'Job' was too strong of a word for it, but it was something that kept me going, and gave me a few pennies to look after myself. I helped a couple on their market stall most days of the week. They had both begun to struggle with day-to-day activities, due to their age, which hindered how they worked on their stall. That was where I came in. All the little tasks they could no longer do, even something simple as packaging something up, is where I filled in and earned my keep. They were somewhat nice to me. They felt sorry for me, and as they did need help to keep themselves in business, I was an easy means to an end. They did invite me over for dinner a couple of night a week, which were usually my favourite parts of those days. They were not family, but they felt the closest I had been to one since my mother passed. 

I missed my mother though. I missed her terribly. I thought about her every day, and barely made a decision without her voice crossing my mind. I felt her lack of presence more severely after time, than when she first died. I think I had been in shock for the first year though. It took me nearly six months to remember I would not be seeing her every day. That she would not hug me or kiss me again. She would never tell me she loved again. That was hard to come to terms with. It still was. 

I tried to take each day as it came, but even at ten that was hard. Even at ten I felt how alone I was in the world. How lost I was. I needed help. And I needed it quickly. 

\- 

It was a busy day in the market square. Busier than usual. People were packed together so tightly, I could barely see through them. I felt like I could barely breathe when I looked at them. 

All the faces started to blend together after a while. There were only a few faces I could make out in between the hordes of people. A handful of them belonged to family I had been trying to avoid for a few years. 

Polly was the most visible of the group, still being almost a head taller than the rest of the family. Ada was who I spotted next, directly next to Polly, clinging onto her hand as they navigated through the market. I followed them for a moment, before my eyes jumped onto the bodies trailing behind them. Following Polly diligently, was a boy I did not recognise, and Tommy. 

I followed the group with my eyes as they continued moving through the market. My eyes mainly stayed on the two boys behind. They kept glancing around them, before quickly leaning closer and whispering to each other. They looked shifty. 

My focus stayed with the two boys, as they continued walking behind Polly and Ada through the market square. However, the more they moved through the market, the more they began to drift away from other, and the two ladies they were with. I tried to keep my eyes on both of them, intrigued by their movements, but I could only manage to keep track of Tommy after a while. 

When Tommy first moved away, I was disappointed to see him only going to look at other market stalls. He did not appear to be up to anything. I was about to start looking for the other boy that was with him, hoping he was doing something more exciting, when I saw Tommy make a move. He looked to be blending himself into the crowds of people around him. Even though he was successful, I could still spot him easily. He moved in the crowd to situate himself beside a young couple. They looked similar to Tommy, if not slightly better off. Tommy stood next to them for moment, unmoving, making me ever-more curious as to what he was doing. I tilted my head slightly, to get a better look. 

In the blink of an eye, Tommy moved. He reached around the young man, and into his pocket. I struggled to see what he had pulled out, but his hand gripped onto something tightly. He paused for a second afterward, making it look as though nothing had happened. However, he quickly took off in a sprint after, making his way out of the market square. 

I desperately wanted to follow him, to see where he was going now, a pull inside me telling me to do so. But, I wanted to see the aftermath first. I wanted to see how long it took the couple to notice something was amiss. And, I wanted to see what they would do if they did notice. 

I was not disappointed, as I did not have to wait long. Before I knew it, the man was furiously patting his pockets down, as the young woman next to him looked at him with concern. The person stood opposite them, on the other side of a stall, was stood with their palm open towards them, clearly waiting to be paid. So, it was money Tommy had taken. I felt my lips quirk up at the realisation. 

Quickly realising his money had been taken, the young man looked around, and after spotting the nearest police officer, called him over. I could see him speaking angrily at the officer, demanding something be done. The officer quickly began asking those around them what had happened, if they had seen anything. I began to worry when I saw several people pointing in the direction Tommy had taken off in. I bit my lip. Tommy would be in a lot of trouble if he was caught, especially if the young man found out. Something inside me told me I had to go to him. I had to warn him. 

As sneakily as I could, I followed the direction Tommy had fled in, and left the market square. 

I found Tommy not far from the market square, closer than I thought he should be standing, given the circumstance. He appeared to be waiting for someone, constantly checking his watch, so I did not approach him at first. Instead, I lingered in the shadows, and waited to see what would happen next. 

Tommy could not stand still. He kept jumping from foot to foot. Constantly looking around him. I was sure he was looking for his friend, but he could have been looking out for someone coming after him as well. In the back of mind, I knew he was looking for both. My thoughts were proved right, when just as Tommy's friend came down one end of the street, the police officer came down the other. 

I watched from my place in the shadows as the officer began to look around the street. I saw the instant he clocked Tommy, and his friend walking toward him. Once the officer saw them, without them noticing, something appeared to click in his eyes. It made me nervous. When he began to walk towards them, my nerves rocketed even higher. 

I was not sure what made me do it. My gut, my instinct, or something even stronger altogether. But, I knew I had to stop the officer. I knew I had to help Tommy. 

"Officer! Officer!" I shouted, running into full view on the street. I easily caught the attention of the police officer, as well as the two boys, who were now behind me. 

"What is it little girl?" The officer asked, sounding like I had interrupted him from something important. As he kept looking over my head, at the two boys, he knew I had as well. 

"Someone's just stolen my grandma's purse from the market," that gained his attention. "He went that way, you need to catch him!" I said, pointing to the end of the street, past where Tommy and his friend stood. As I turned to point, I saw I still had full the attention of both boys, who both had shock in their eyes. 

"Really?" the officer asked, raising an eyebrow, not sounding like he believed me one bit. 

"Yeah, I saw him do it and followed him as far as I could. I think he'd got someone else too! He had loads of purses in his hand." 

"Really?" the officer asked again, sounding more surprised this time. I saw him look behind me, at Tommy again no doubt, before focusing back on me. I could him starting to believe me. 

"Please hurry! We don't have much, and he took most of it. He can't be far. He just turned the corner before you arrived. I know you could catch him!" 

"Right... yeah... I'll get after him..." the officer stuttered, before taking off in the direction I had pointed to earlier. 

I watched him go, making sure he followed my directions. As I turned to follow him with my eyes, I caught Tommy's gaze. His eyes held the same surprise his friend's whole face conveyed. I raised my eyebrows at the pair of them, smirking at their shock. Before either of them could speak to me though, I turned on my heal and walked back to the market. 

\- 

A few days later, I was surprised to look up and find Tommy stood in front of me. He was back in the market again but followed by his brother's this time. 

"Here," was all he said, reaching his hand out towards me. He said nothing else, no 'hello', no other greeting. He simply stood with his hand out, staring at me. 

"Take it," he said, more impatiently. 

Hesitantly, I held my own hand out under his, and waited. Immediately, I felt something drop into my hand. Something cold, and clinking. I looked down, surprised to see money in the palm of my hand. I pulled my hand back towards me, to properly study what was in it. The money looked real. At my best guess, I would say it was a few shillings making up the pile. I felt my hand shaking though, and was too embarrassed to check. 

"What's this?" I asked, looking back up to Tommy. 

"Money," one of his brother's said, from his place next to Tommy. It was the younger one, john. I spared him a glance, but quickly looked back towards Tommy. 

"It's your cut. From the other day," Tommy replied. 

"The other day?" I asked, confused. 

"Yeah. You helped us out the other day. Got that copper off us. This is your cut," Tommy repeated himself, emphasising his point this time. 

"Oh. That was nothing," I said, blushing. 

"It was something," the older brother, Arthur said, giving me a kind look. 

I had no reply to that, so I simply stood there, quiet. I hoped one of the them would speak again. Or leave. I was fine with either. 

"How would you like to help us again?" Tommy asked, catching me off guard. I was surprised by his question, but ultimately my curiosity won out. 

"With what?" 

Tommy only smirked in response, looking around to his brother's. Something told me it was going to be hard to say no to Tommy.

**Author's Note:**

> (Anne is the Shelby's mum btw; she was never officially given a name, so I've taken some artistic license)  
> (Also, I can't remember if I ever gave Georgina a last name, either way, it's Harris now)


End file.
